


Respite

by i_warned_you



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker is a Little Shit, Bottom Darth Maul, Breaking the Jedi Code (Star Wars), Darth Maul Being a Little Shit, Darth Maul Has His Lower Half, Darth Maul Needs a Hug, Drinking, Eventual Smut, First Time, Fix-It, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, M/M, No Beta We Die Like Clones, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Sex Worker Darth Maul, Slow Burn, Smoking, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, Trust Issues, Zabrak Culture (Star Wars), homoerotic cooking, human disaster darth maul, i wrote this as therapy, like so much zabrak culture, obi-wan has a savior complex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:21:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28940637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_warned_you/pseuds/i_warned_you
Summary: AU where Maul was never taken by Sidious and ends up on Coruscant. Obi-Wan is knighted and he and Qui-Gon train Anakin together. Through a twist of fate, Obi-Wan takes an injured Maul back to his quarters in the Temple. The two of them slowly break from their shells to find respite in each other.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul
Comments: 9
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Maul is about 23 in this, Obi-Wan is 20 and Anakin is 13. This was written as a way for me to give my favorite character some love and therapy after a lifetime of pain. I hope you enjoy!

Sweat caked Obi-Wan’s robes, sticking to his sides, legs, and back, worsening the oppressive heat of the Coruscanti evening. He walked to sit on the benches around the training mat. 

“Well, Anakin you are getting better.” He said, smiling at his energetic young padawan.   
“But I think I’m done for today.” He stood, moving to the door of the training room and waving goodbye to Qui-Gon. 

“But Obi-Wan!” Anakin called after him in protest, Obi-Wan stopped in the doorway and looked back at Anakin.

“Not now Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, stopping the young teen in his tracks. “I promise I’ll spar more tomorrow, but right now is my time off, go ask Qui-Gon to spar.” With that, Anakin fell silent and allowed Obi-Wan to leave.

He and Qui-Gon had agreed that because of their strange arrangement one master would get the evening and night off every other day while the other trained Anakin and vice versa the next day. He usually retired to his quarters to either meditate or read whatever novel he was on currently, but today was different. He wanted to get out of the stuffy temple, go see the rich nightlife of Coruscant that he’d only heard stories about. 

However, it was still early evening, and the bustling city wouldn’t truly wake until nightfall. So he had time to get a shower and meal in before heading out. He reached his quarters shortly, opening the door and tossing his tunic and robe off and onto the nearest chair. He stood there for a moment, staring at his clothing. What would he wear?

Shaking his head, he put the thoughts out of his mind and stepped into the shower, enjoying the relaxing water streaming over his body. He started thinking about the last few days, and all that had happened to him. An ever-mounting threat of Separatist victory had weighed on him and training Anakin was exhausting, he loved the boy but his incessant nagging was going to grey Obi-Wan’s hair. Running his hands over his scalp, Obi-Wan sighed, leaning against the wall of the shower and sliding down to a sitting position. The stress held in his muscles slowly releasing with the torrent running across his back.

Stepping out of the ‘fresher his thoughts again came to what he was going to wear, he owned very few clothes as it was, much less non-Jedi clothes. After a few moments of worrying, he eventually decided on wearing the light tunic and pants that he wore under his robes. Digging through his drawers he eventually found a pair of darker brown pants that wouldn’t stand out as much as his customary white ones. 

All he wanted was a change of scenery he was desperate to blow off some steam. He checked the time, still an hour before sunset, and while he wasn’t hungry, he made a meal anyway. It seemed hard to even breathe in his tiny, dark kitchen, the walls seemed to close in around him, trying to suffocate him. 

He ate in his living room and left the temple quickly, making a beeline for the nearest transport system. His stomach was knot as he stood at the transport stop, eyes trained on the ground as if looking someone in the eye would drop him dead. It wasn’t long until a shuttle creaked into the stop, doors squeaking open and the driver barking out the destination, Uscru Entertainment District. Obi-Wan boarded, slipping the fee into the small transparasteel box at the front of the shuttle and taking a standing place towards the back. The people on the shuttle were staring at him, he could feel their confusion and curiosity in the force, he pushed his shoulders up, trying in vain to collapse into himself and hide from them. 

After what felt like an eternity the shuttle came to another creaking stop, this time outside of a nightclub, the driver belted out the name of the establishment but the raucous from outside made it impossible to hear. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan stepped out onto the grimy street, the smell of spice smoke and cheap liquor wafted from the open doors and windows of the nightclub, the name was clear now Outlander Club. For a brief moment Obi-Wan stopped, what was he doing? He should be back at the temple, in his quarters reading a text. But these thoughts fled when he stepped over the threshold of Outlander Club. The loud thumping music, bright flashing lights, and beautiful dancers immediately dazzled him. 

The bar was towards the back and to the left, humans and aliens alike sat and drank, off the to right was a stage of sorts, where men and women danced clinging to poles. On the back wall, large cylindrical cages were hanging at least two feet from the ground, occupied by more scantily clad dancers. There were people dressed in skimpy black uniforms, waiters of some type he assumed, weaving through the people and lounging with customers on couches. Obi-Wan made his way to the bar and took a seat next to a hulking Tholothian who was talking excitedly to a Togruta who sat to his right. Obi-Wan couldn’t quite make out their conversation, something about an upcoming concert or music show. 

Obi-Wan looked around the bar for any type of menu or drink sheet, but couldn’t find anything like that. After sitting quietly for a few minutes he finally built up the courage to signal the bartender, beckoning the woman over to him. She raised an eyebrow at him and looked him over before speaking. 

“You don’t look like you’re from around here, no you don’t look like the usual fare. You look too,” she paused gesturing to Obi-Wan’s clothing, “understated.” She finally said with a playful smile. Obi-Wan flushed with embarrassment and opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. Kriff, he thought, why does he have to be so awkward? 

“Calm down, I didn’t mean anything by it. What’ll it be?” The bartender said, grabbing a rag from the counter. 

“I was going to ask you about that, I don’t see a menu or anything,” Obi-Wan said, force he sounds so stupid. The bartender gave a small laugh as a response and pulled a small glass down from above her and poured a dark yellow liquid into it.

“We don’t have one, but I can tell you need something strong, here.” She said, sliding the drink to him. “You’ll like these.” Obi-Wan picked the small glass up cautiously before downing it in one burning swig. The bartender smiled at him, chuckling as he coughed lightly after swallowing the bitter drink. 

“How was that?” She joked, already filling his glass again. Obi-Wan took a breath trying to shake the heady fog already taking hold over him. 

“Not bad.” He lied, trying to return her smile. Soon another full glass was back in his hand, he took this one slower but still finished quicker than he knew he should have. She hadn’t lied, these were strong and their fuzzy warmth had filled Obi-Wan’s chest, chasing away the anxiety and self-doubt. 

“I’ll be right over!” The bartender called to someone while pouring another dark drink into Obi-Wan’s glass. Obi-wan sipped the drink slowly now, not wanting to blackout or get too drunk to make his way back to the temple. 

The music was exciting, it made him want to move and dance, but Obi-Wan knew he couldn’t dance well at all, and besides he didn’t have anyone to dance with. So instead he turned himself around on his stool and opted to watch the people on the dancefloor. The colorful lights made it all the better and Obi-Wan sat there sipping his drink and enjoying the show of the dance floor. 

He turned to call the bartender again, his cup had been empty for some time, he knew he was tipsy, drunk even, but he felt strange sitting there and not drinking. Just as he was going to wave the bartender over he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning he saw one of the black-uniformed waiters, his clothing, if that’s what you could call it, was made of a tight almost plastic material. He wore gloves to his elbows, leaving the majority of his upper body exposed, save for a small leather harness over his chest that connected to a panel of leather that covered the majority of his back. His pants hung from his hip bones, it was clear they fit him at one time but he had since grown almost too small to wear them. The man himself was short, slender, and wiry with black tattoos all over his scarlet skin, a crown of horns grew from his bald head. He was beautiful, entrancing even and Obi-Wan had to stop himself from just blankly staring at him.

“Hey, stranger.” The man said, his voice quiet and deep, but Obi-Wan had no trouble hearing him over the din. “Care for a dance?” the man ran a gloved hand over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, lightly squeezing his bicep.

“I can show you a real good time.” He added. The perfectness of the situation overwhelmed Obi-Wan and after paying the bartender he found himself agreeing and being lead over to the bustling dancefloor. 

It was clear that his companion knew how to dance and it made Obi-Wan slightly self-conscious. He felt no annoyance in the force from his companion, which put him at ease. It only occurred to Obi-Wan that he didn’t know the man’s name after they had been dancing for some time. He leaned down to speak into the man’s ear over the music. 

“What’s your name?” Obi-Wan asked, not wanting to overstep his boundaries, the night was going pretty well and it would be a shame to ruin it now. 

“Maul.” The man said back, looking up at Obi-Wan with a small smirk, exposing poorly washed teeth. Obi-Wan tried not to grimace at the sight, he was still beautiful but it was clear he didn’t take care of himself. Obi-Wan did not comment and instead got closer to Maul on the dancefloor. Maul seemed so interesting, alluring, even and Obi-Wan wanted to learn everything about him. He’s just drunk, he thought, Maul had just offered him a dance, not a date. Still, there was something about the man, something completely new to Obi-Wan, something that was exciting. 

They eventually migrated from the dancefloor over to one of the many chaise lounges facing the stage, Maul got up and told Obi-Wan to stay there, eventually returning with drinks for the both of them. These drinks were larger and tasted amazing, much better than the yellow swill he had earlier. The couch was deadly comfortable, after spending over two hours on his feet it was a much-needed rest, the liquor was getting to him the bumping music was pounding at his head.

“Hey, do you want to go somewhere more private?” Maul asked, smiling slyly at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was shocked, it’s like he had read his mind, but he paid it no mind and nodded in response, feeling too nauseous to speak. Maul took his hand and lead Obi-Wan towards the back of the club, he was starting to feel awful, the colors swimming in front of him as Maul led him down a dark hallway and into a small room. Obi-Wan stumbled into the door frame, banging his nose on the hard metal. Maul wheeled around and tried to catch him.

“Are you okay? Oh Crick your nose!” Maul cursed, heaving Obi-Wan up and over to a small bed in the corner of the room. Blood fell in torrents from his broken nose, getting all over Obi-Wan’s tunic and pooling on his chest. Maul tugged Obi-Wan’s tunic off and ripped a strip off, from the sleeve, balling it up and holding it against his throbbing nose. 

“Hold that! I’m going to get something to sober you up” and left the room muttering something about clumsy dolts who can’t handle liquor. It was much quieter in this room the relative calm allowed Obi-Wan to try and think about the specifics of why he was here. Suddenly panicking he felt the pocket of his pants looking for the credits he had brought with him. His heart sunk, they were empty. He went to stand, heaving himself up into a standing position but before he could walk away from the bed Maul came back into the room holding a tall glass of thick green liquid. 

“Hey! What are you doing? Sit your ass down!” Maul put a hand on his shoulder and forced him to sit down with impressive strength. 

“Now you’re going to drink this, and stay here until you sober up. There’s no way I’m going to be responsible for you puking everywhere.” Maul forced the glass into Obi-Wan’s free hand and brought it to his lips. 

“Go on, drink.” He commanded, looking down at Obi-Wan. He didn’t have much of a choice so he began to drink, the drink was thick and tasted like Bantha piss but Obi-Wan managed to get it all down. He shoved the glass back into Maul’s hands, now focusing on stopping the bleeding from his nose. He ended up settling on shoving shreds of his tunic up to his nose and just hoping it didn’t bleed through. Maul sat next to him on the bed, setting the dirty glass on the floor.

“Thank you,” He finally said, turning to Maul and trying to smile at him. That disgusting drink was already doing the trick, he felt like he was back to the real world now, or at least coming back to it. Maul faked a smile back, it was clear he was annoyed and tired, Obi-Wan went to stand again but Maul pulled him back to the bed.

“You’re really in no shape to go anywhere, and besides you haven’t paid me yet.” Obi-Wan plopped back onto the bed and shot Maul a confused look. 

“Paid you? For what?” Obi-Wan asked bewildered, Maul stared back at him like he had a second head. 

“My services. We may not have fucked but there’s no kriffing way I’m not at least charging you half.” Maul spat back at him, anger showing on his face. Obi-Wan felt completely blindsided, services? Fucking? He still wasn’t even sure as to why he was in this room. 

“Wait a minute. Your services? What services?” Obi-Wan stood from the bed, taking a step back from the man. Maul crossed his legs, giving Obi-Wan a cutting look. 

“Really? Are you that dim? I’m a hustler, a call boy.” Maul gestured to his clothing, “Normal people don’t go around dressed like this.” Obi-Wan was completely confused, a call boy? Hustler? What was Maul talking about? 

“Honestly, I thought you were a waiter or a dancer or something. You’re wearing a uniform and I assumed you worked for the club. I lost my credits on the dancefloor I don’t have anything to give you.” Obi-Wan was startled by Maul standing from the bed and swiftly pulling a knife from his hip. 

“Krayt spit! You knew exactly what I was! I can show you a good time, no one talks like that! Either you knew and tried to get something from me for free or you are just a karking halfwit. I should gut you like a ghest either way.” Maul snarled, brandishing the small blade at Obi-Wan. Of all the times in the night to panic, now would be the best, but Obi-Wan was calm he could see the pain and anger inside Maul’s eyes, feel the rage coming from him in the force. Obi-Wan looks at him kindly, raising his hands in a sign of surrender. 

“Please, I misunderstood. I can get you money, I just don’t have it on me.” He released calming energy into the force to try and combat Maul’s rage. 

“Ha!” Maul laughed, “I’ve heard that before! You’ll promise to pay me tomorrow, then I’ll never see you again! I’m not risking being kicked out because Mr. Goody Two Shoes ‘lost’ his karking credits! Now be a dear and empty your pockets.” Obi-Wan obliged him, not wanting to provoke him anymore, as he knew they were empty.

Anger took over Maul’s face and he lunged forward. Obi-Wan quickly sidestepped, sending Maul headfirst into the wall. Giving Obi-Wan enough time to grab his attacker by the back of the neck. Maul twisted, trying to slash at Obi-Wan’s stomach but he managed to grab his hand and pin it next to his head.

“Listen, I can help you.” Obi-Wan said, cautious, “I’m going to let you go and tell you how I can help but you have to promise not to stab me. Could you let go of the knife please?” Obi-Wan asked, trying to be reassuring. Maul squeezed the dagger tight in his hand, refusing to let go, still struggling in the larger man’s grip.

“How can you help me? You have no credits, no standing.” Obi-Wan cut him off by ripping the knife from his hand and shoving it into the pocket of his pants. 

“I think you’ll find I have much more standing than you could have imagined.” That seemed to shut Maul up. “I’m going to let you go, do not try that again.” Obi-Wan slowly let go of Maul’s neck and stepped away from him. Maul wheeled around, pressing his back hard against the wall. Obi-Wan backed away, sitting on the bed, trying his best to make Maul feel safe. 

“Listen, I want to help you, I want to get all of this straight in my mind, but to do that you need to tell me some things, first off what did you mean by ‘kicked out’” Obi-Wan started, waiting for Maul’s reaction. After a few labored breaths, Maul spoke.

“When you work in a place like this, rent isn’t exactly cheap. I need to make five hundred credits a week to earn my keep. Anything under that and I’m on the streets. You don’t exactly look like the kind of person who has the kind of resources to feed yourself let alone someone else.” Maul grated, glaring at Obi-Wan. He could feel the pain and fear in Maul’s words, the reality of the poverty he was describing. It gave him pause.

“I can assure you, we have enough resources to feed and house you at the temple,” Obi-Wan said, trying to break the news he was a Jedi gently. 

“Temple?” He paused, not sure if the question was meant to be answered, “Wait! You’re a Jedi! You’re one of those knights!” Fury once again found a home on Maul’s face and he reached out his hand, the dagger flew from inside Obi-Wan's pocket and into Maul’s hand, he again lunged forward, slicing at Obi-Wan’s chest. This time, Obi-Wan wasn’t so lucky and the blade made stinging contact with his shoulder, slicing in deep. He screamed, grabbing his attacker by the shoulders and shoving him back against the wall, slamming his head hard until he slumped over, out cold. 

Quickly, Obi-Wan grabbed his discarded tunic, slipping it over his shoulders and tying it at his waist. He knew he looked insane, a broken nose in a tunic missing a sleeve and soaked in blood. He went to exit the small room when he saw the blood seeping down the wall from behind Maul’s head. He stood frozen, not knowing what to do.

Eventually, he went over to the smaller man and hoisted him up, slinging his arm around his shoulder and praying to the force that he wouldn’t call too much attention to himself. Slowly, he carried Maul out of the club, luckily it had gotten too busy for anyone to notice them leaving, even boarding the shuttle wasn’t too difficult, and soon in the wee hours of the morning, a bleeding Obi-Wan Kenobi hauled a knocked out Maul into his temple quarters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan learns more about his suspicious guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is a roller coaster, but I hope you enjoy it! the formatting is different in AO3 to what I write in, so it may be off. Comments make my day :)
> 
> you can contact me @good-old-ben-kenobi of tumblr.

This was bad, very very bad. He had brought a hostile, unfamiliar, force user into the Jedi temple. The anxiety that had been chased away by the liquor was returning in full force, his slowed pace only added to the panic rising in his gut. He was almost there, so close, his quarter’s door was within view when.

“Master?” Obi-Wan froze, kriff. He slowly turned, Anakin stood outside Qui-Gon’s door staring at the man in Obi-Wan’s arms. Anakin stepped back, confusion echoing through the force.

“Anakin, I can explain. He needs help, he needs to go to the healers.” Anakin glared at him, knitting his brows together.

“The healers are on the other side of the temple. Why are you bringing him into your room? Why is he dressed like that? Why are you covered in blood? What’s going on?” Mounting tension in his voice as he got increasingly concerned. 

“Anakin, he needs rest, I was out on a walk and a mugger held me up, he stepped in and saved my life. I want to repay him. Now, go back to bed, I’ll talk to Qui-Gon about it in the morning.” At that Anakin opened the door and went inside but not before shooting Obi-Wan another quizzical look.

Obi-Wan hurried to his quarters trying not to wake Maul, gingerly laying the near-stranger down onto the bunk in Anakin’s old room, taking care to put a towel under his head to stop any bleeding. Not wanting to leave Maul alone he felt the room only for a moment, slipping into his sleep clothes as quickly as he could. What was he doing? This wasn’t the time for second-guessing himself, Obi-Wan decided, this was the time for compassion and sleep. 

Crossing the room he looked Maul over, eventually deciding that the gloves and harness he was wearing were too uncomfortable to sleep in, and opted to remove them. The gloves were difficult to remove, they clung to Maul’s sweaty arms, suctioned on by their skin tightness. Once he managed to wrestle the left glove off of Maul he stopped, gaze caught by something on Maul’s arm. Wide pink scars lined his wrists running up to his elbows where they overlapped with his dark tattoos. They were angry and twisted, their bumpy texture disrupting Maul’s smooth, flawless red skin. 

Obi-Wan paused, running his thumb over a scar that ran onto his palm. He could feel the force signature of these wounds, confusion, pain, and bitter anger. He moved on, refusing to dwell on something that wasn’t his business. The second glove came easier and Obi-Wan refused to even check for scars this time, too mentally tired to deal with anything more. It took little effort to flip the man and soon the leather panel that held his harness on was too being pulled off. The color drained from Obi-Wan’s face lying in between Maul’s shoulder blades were thick textured marks crossing over each other and building up. 

Obi-Wan felt sick, his stomach was a hard and twisted knot. He couldn’t look at it anymore, he dug through his drawer eventually finding a tunic that would be small enough to fit Maul. He flipped Maul over again, pulling him up close to Obi-Wan’s chest to slip his arms into the sleeves of the soft white shirt. Laying him back down he tied the garment loosely, pulling the sheet up over his guest. He left soon after, clicking the door locked.

He got some bandages from the ‘fresher to wrap up his shoulder. He got into his bed quickly after that, setting an alarm for dawn, even though it was only hours away but he wanted to be awake before Maul woke up. Sleep found him faster than he thought, whisking him away from his growing anxiety. 

His blaring alarm shocked him awake, he sat bolt upright flicking off his alarm and stretching his tense back. Getting out of bed he straightened out his blanket, fluffing his pillow and slowly making his way into the kitchen. The sun was just rising over the city skyline, painting his kitchen a golden pink. It was warm on his skin, distracting him from the ache in his nose. 

He put on water for tea, resting against the counter and allowing himself to enjoy the sunrise. The moment was short-lived, as he heard banging coming from the door of Anakin’s old bedroom. Uh oh. He rushed over to the door, unlocking it only to see Maul’s tear-streaked face. 

“Why the Kark am I in your house?” The smaller man said, stepping back to the back wall, fear shaking his voice. Obi-Wan sighed, stepping back and lifting his hands slightly. 

“We got in a fight, it got uglier than I intended and it felt wrong leaving you there, so I brought you back here.” Maul’s chest rose and fell quickly, eyes darting around the room.

“Y-you took me from the club? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” He paused, shaking and wringing his hands, “I can’t go back there now, I-I was on contract! Do you have any idea what you’ve done!” He nearly shouted, rising to Obi-Wan’s height closing the distance between the two of them. 

Obi-Wan backed away, the gnarled pit in his stomach growing deeper by the second. No, he didn’t know what he did, he was just trying to help. 

“No, I don’t know what I’ve done, you were bleeding badly I didn’t know what else to do. We can help you here, we have healers an-and I can get you credits.” Obi-Wan offered, desperate to get Maul to calm down. He wanted to help, he was desperate to help, he wanted to save the beautifully sad man exploding in front of him. What he said seemed to calm Maul down and he got out of Obi-Wan’s face. 

After a moment of silence, Obi-Wan dared to meet Maul’s gaze giving a weak look of compassion to the shaking man. 

“Would you like some tea?” He offered quietly, slowly heading into the small kitchen which was now a bright yellow, with the new sun shining directly into the blank room. The water was reaching a rolling boil, threatening to spill onto the stove, Obi-Wan pulled two mugs down from his cupboard filling them with the water and plopping a tea bag in each. He felt Maul enter the room, his apprehension palpable in the force.

Still looking down Obi-Wan passed Maul the steaming cup, watching the shaking scarred hand take it. Maul looked so meek in Obi-Wan’s tunic, so unlike the extroverted and dominant man, he had met the night before. 

“So,” Obi-Wan began, unsure of how to finish, “you live there, at the club?” He asked, wanting to break the glacial ice that kept them silent.

“Lived, I can’t go back there now. I was working there on a contract, part of the agreement was that I only left with the permission of the boss.” He stopped to sip the tea, “Now that that contract is broken, I’m no longer under his, ahem, employ.” His voice was tired and raspy, grating against itself. 

“I’m honestly not sure what to say, all I wanted was to help, I can give you credits and you can leave if you want. I don’t want to hold you here.” Obi-Wan said, hoisting himself up to sit on the counter. Maul sighed deeply, resting his elbow on the counter and looking up through his eyelashes at Obi-Wan. 

“You never told me your name,” He nearly whispered, his face fallen and his shoulder drooping. Obi-Wan smiled lightly, looking at his reflection in his dark tea.

“Ah, it’s Obi-Wan but the younglings and padawans call me master Kenobi.” Maul smiled delicately back, his breathing slowly evening out. 

“Kenobi, I like that.” His words were breathy and slight, whispering over to Obi-Wan. He rolled up the sleeves of the too-big tunic, exposing the tortured skin of his forearms. Neither of them acknowledged it. 

“You changed my shirt,” He chuckled forcibly, trying to break the foggy mood. It was a new unbroken morning and it seemed like a sin to have the mood be anything but joyful.

“I don’t want to be a burden to you, honestly I don’t want to stay with you, we’ve caused enough trouble for each other and I’d prefer to find myself a place to stay before noon.” He added, ripping off the social bandaid. 

“You can stay here,” Obi-Wan spoke before thinking. “You’re a force user, and I could get the council to house you.” Lies, the council barely let Anakin stay at the age of nine, there was no way they were letting Maul stay.

“Ha!” He responded, genuinely laughing at Obi-Wan’s proposition. “I don’t need your training, I’ve had enough of that. All any of you masters do is hurt, people.” Maul spat those words like poison boring holes into Obi-Wan. 

“You were trained?” Obi-Wan asked, slipping off the counter to be closer to the man, was he telling the truth? Lying? What was he talking about? 

“Not by any Jedi, no. But growing up I’ve seen enough of you people’s cruelty. You massacred my people, you don’t see many Dathomirians around anymore do you?” The cutting was back, almost humorous and it frightened Obi-Wan. 

“Dathomir? Where the Nightsisters ruled?” Recognition dawned on Maul’s face, lighting his puffy tired eyes. 

“Oh, you know it? Was that your first mission? A fledgling crusader taking his first few genocidal steps into the world? Or did your master order it done?” Maul asked, leaning in and smiling his rotten grin at Obi-Wan, who was deeply concerned by the turn in the conversation.

“No, I heard about the mission from the council. I’m sorry about your family, this is a bloody and senseless war.” Maul was surprised and fell silent, sipping his tea. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen, not at all what he intended when he set out the night before. He decided to try and change the topic, setting his now empty mug down and opening the icebox.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, kicking himself for the awkwardness of this entire situation. Maul raised an eyebrow finishing his tea and eyeing him suspiciously. 

“I could eat,” he rounded the corner of the counter, looking into the icebox. He reached past Obi-Wan, grabbing a carton of blue milk. 

“Do you know how to cook? I’m kriffing useless when it comes to that kind of stuff I usually just eat the Dinnd sold across the street from the club.” Maul chuckled, walking over to sit on the small dining room table that occupied the other side of the room. 

“Isn’t that stuff terrible for you? You eat that every day?” Obi-Wan turned from the open icebox, watching Maul sip from straight from the carton of blue milk. Maul Shrugged in response, putting his foot up on the edge of the table. Obi-Wan sighed, closing the icebox and settling on pancakes.


	3. Bump in the road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope you like this story it's not what I normally write. The updates are every Sunday but let me know if you want them more frequently. I have way more written than I'm posting and can post a few more chapters. You can contact me @good-old-ben-kenobi on tumblr, comments make my day :)

Maul ate with such ferocity Obi-Wan was sure he would break something, he had refused to sit at the table and instead took a place on the counter, resting his feet against the back of a chair. The time of day was cruelly brought back to him when he heard a knock at his door. He stood quickly, rushing to the door and opening it to see a bewildered Qui-Gon looking back at him. 

“Obi-Wan, what is going on? Anakin said you carried a bleeding man into your room last night.” Obi-Wan didn’t know what to say, so he froze, and he lied. 

“I don’t know what you mean? A Man?” Qui-Gon’s face fell.

“Yes, Obi-Wan, that man.” He pointed over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, turning back Obi-Wan saw Maul, still holding his plate of pancakes. 

“Hello,” Maul said, grinning toothily at Qui-Gon. Obi-wan flushed, looking back to Qui-Gon with an ‘I’m sorry’ look spread across his face. Bowing his head, he reluctantly let Qui-Gon in. His former Master looked Maul over, not bothering to be subtle. 

After a minute of painful silence, Qui-Gon spoke, “What is this Obi-Wan?” There was no anger in his voice, but Obi-Wan could tell that he was concerned. 

“Well,” Obi-Wan started, not sure of how to explain any of this, he didn’t end up needing to, as Maul opened his mouth.

“Kenobi here was just returning a favor. Came across someone helpless and in need, decided to be the bigger person.” 

“I didn’t ask you,” Qui-Gon said bluntly, not turning to look at Maul. He kept his gaze and scrutiny trained on Obi-Wan.

“He’s right.” Obi-Wan managed to croak out, “I was out of the temple, going on a walk and someone attacked me, Maul stepped in and, um, saved me. He was badly injured so I brought him here.” Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes, obviously not buying their story. 

“Helping a friend? Very well, I’ll stay for breakfast.” Without waiting for a response from either of them Qui-Gon strode into the dining room. Obi-Wan hurried after him, not wanting to leave either man alone he beckoned Maul after him, who followed eating as he walked through the apartment.

They ate in silence, well relative silence, Maul ate quickly and loudly, it was clear that this was the first proper meal he had had in a long time. 

“So, Maul is it? You need to work on your mental shields” Qui-Gon finally said, clearly tired of the awkward silence they had been trapped in. Maul paused to swallow before responding.

“What?” Maul asked, startled. Qui-Gon gave him a friendly look.

“Your shields, to stop every force user in the room from hearing everything you think. Don’t worry, I wasn’t snooping but it might be useful in the future for you to protect your mind.” Maul looked completely blindsided as if he had just been slapped. 

“I didn’t know I had those.” He admitted, “How did you know I could use the force?” 

“You can tell who is and isn’t a force user with training, maybe Obi-Wan could show you. If you tell me how you actually got here.” He added, an impish smile playing on his face.

“I’m not sure you wouldn’t be too happy with Kenobi here if I told you.” Maul smiled at Obi-Wan from across the table, Qui-Gon looked up quizzically at that, raising an eyebrow.

“Why is that?” Qui-Gon asked Kenobi this time, slight worry tightening his brow. Obi-Wan didn’t look at his former master, not sure what to say or do. 

“I’m not angry with you Obi-Wan, you’re not my padawan anymore, you’re a knight now, and taking someone in that needs help is an admirable feat.” Maul looked between them, mouth agape.

“You know, I’m right here,” Maul interjected, his voice full of offense. Qui-Gon paid him no mind, keeping his gaze trained on Obi-Wan, his face had turned a deep red. Nothing seemed to happen, Obi-Wan froze and Qui-Gon didn’t say anything else. Maul leaned back in his chair, bored. 

“Let me end this misery.” Maul sighed, which seemed to get Qui-Gon’s attention. “I work- well worked, as a callboy in a club in The Utru Entertainment district. Kenobi came in last night, I approached him and we danced together. He was too drunk or ignorant or sheltered to know what I was doing. When I asked for payment for the night he told me he had lost the credits he had brought with him. We, ahem, scuffled and I ended up with a bleeding head and Kenobi a hurt shoulder. He felt bad apparently and dragged me back here, breaking my contract with the club and meaning I won't be able to work.” Qui-Gon was still skeptical but seemed to take this story better, Obi-Wan had turned bright red and had slumped back in his seat. 

“And don’t worry, I’m just as upset to be here as you are to have me.” Maul spat at Qui-Gon, who looked upset by the notion.

“You seem to misunderstand, I’m not upset you’re here. I don’t care what Obi-Wan’s love life is. If he wants to go to clubs and meet with people like you that’s not my business. He needs a roommate anyway,” Maul’s eyes were wide, shocked, and intrigued.

“Wait, you’d let me stay? For free?” Maul asked, suddenly sitting forward in his seat ignoring the comment about Kenobi’s love life, shreds of excitement at the corner of his mouth. Qui-Gon nodded.

“My love life?” Obi-Wan asked, but he was ignored by both Maul and Qui-Gon.

“As long as Obi-Wan doesn’t mind it, you wouldn’t get to just stay here forever, temporarily, until you’re ready to leave.” Obi-Wan almost choked at that, coughing slightly before finally adding to the rather strange conversation.

“I-I don’t know, should a non-Jedi stay in the temple?” He asked, voice small. Maul huffed at that, rolling his eyes.

“He doesn’t have to stay that way, and I won’t tell the council,” Qui-Gon reassured. Obi-Wan looked relieved, sighing slightly.

“I’m not opposed, I would like a roommate,” Obi-Wan said at last, Maul bit back a smile, but couldn’t stop Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon feeling his elation in the force. Qui-Gon stood, smiling at the two younger men. 

“Well, Obi-Wan you should help Maul find a job, I’ll explain everything to Anakin. This is a secret boys, so be discreet with your comings and goings, and thank you for breakfast. Would you see me out,” he added, looking at Obi-Wan. They left Maul at the table, looking annoyed. 

“It’s your responsibility to look after him.” Qui-Gon said quietly once they reached the door, “You have upended this man’s life and it’s your job to right it again.” At that he left, leaving the two to clean up the dishes together. The rest of the day went by lazily, Maul read some of Obi-Wan’s books on Jedi meditation in the room he was using and they talked briefly about finding a job, Obi-Wan still had some temple duties to attend to so he slipped in and out throughout the day. 

They ate dinner together, Obi-Wan had realized that Maul was quite reserved when he wasn’t trying to pull someone, so he gave up on all attempts to start a conversation. They retired to their rooms, Obi-Wan gave Maul the code to the lock on the door before saying goodnight.

Maul was ecstatic the next day, smiling to himself when he thought Obi-Wan couldn’t see. Qui-Gon had excused Obi-Wan for the day, telling the council that he was feeling unwell and needed to rest. 

The day passed by quickly, the pair occupying Obi-Wan’s living room talking about finding Maul a job and the best way for him to leave the temple without being seen. They had settled on the east exit through the gardens, it was rarely used by anyone but janitorial staff. 

“Shouldn’t I have some clothes that fit me? All I have is my work uniform and this,” He said, gesturing to the oversized tunic he was wearing, pacing around the room in front of where Obi-Wan sat on the couch. Obi-Wan hadn’t thought about that. 

“I’ll pick some up for you, I don’t want you leaving the temple during the day.” Obi-Wan all but ordered. Maul scoffed.

“No karking way. No offense but I don’t exactly trust your taste.” Maul only half-joked, “And it doesn’t really matter anyway, I’ll throw one of your cloak things over my horns and we’ll be set, plus you’re buying,” Maul sat next to him on the couch flashing a grin, it seemed to be genuine this time, or at least more genuine as Obi-Wan could still feel apprehension in the force. It seemed like the best time to right things.

“I’m sorry I got you into all of this.” Obi-Wan started, the grin falling from Maul’s face, “This must be hard for you, I really messed things up for you.” Maul’s face became colder, more closed off and Obi-Wan felt a pang of regret, he never should have said anything. 

“Thank you.” Maul said curtly, “Just don’t make this difficult.” He added, standing and leaving the room. Obi-Wan’s heart fell, he had kriffed it all up, he rested his head in his hands. 

“Oh come on, quit wallowing we’re going shopping.” Maul was standing in the doorway, one of Obi-Wan’s cloaks hanging off his shoulders, the garment trailed on the ground behind him and when he put the hood up it almost hid his entire face. Obi-Wan stifled a laugh and led Maul into the hallway, instructing him to put up his hood.

They crept through the temple in silence, reaching the gardens in a matter of minutes, Maul stopped in awe in the doorway. 

“It’s beautiful.” He nearly whispered, eyes wide. Obi-Wan looked around, not seeing what was so amazing but saying nothing. It dawned on him as they left that Maul likely had never seen so much plant life other than on his homeworld.


	4. Smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading, I'm having a blast writing this! Comments make my entire week :)   
> As always I'm @good-old-ben-kenobi on tumblr

All of the shops Maul took Kenobi to were far from the temple, small holes in the wall each with more suspicious clientele than the last. Most all the clothes Maul bought, well, Obi-Wan bought were nondescript, black and loose, save for one get up that he didn’t even try on, just bought. He tried to keep the outfit as ambiguous as possible but Obi-Wan could tell that it was similar to the clothes he met him in. 

They spoke very little in general but even less on this outing, remaining silent the entire way back to the temple. The sun was setting when they closed the door to Obi-Wan’s quarters. Maul flopped onto the couch, closing his eyes and sighing, exhausted.

“What do we have to eat?” He asked after a while, sitting up on his elbows. Obi-Wan checked his icebox, getting out some vegetables and meat Maul had never seen before.

“Just the basics, we don’t get a whole lot of variety here.” He smiled to himself, chopping a green starchy stalk finely. Maul laid back on the couch staring blankly at the ceiling until Obi-Wan called him to the table. 

It was still awkward, they weren’t exactly used to each other yet, so they ate dinner silently and retired to their respective rooms soon after. Obi-Wan felt strange, it was a new feeling, having someone stay in his quarters with him, especially if that person had plunged a knife into his shoulder two days before. Sleep didn’t evade him though and he closed his eyes.

Obi-Wan was woken up by clattering he bolted out of bed, cautiously rushing to the kitchen, only to find Maul unpacking groceries on the counter.

“What are you doing?” He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Maul turned, one of Obi-Wan’s cloaks was swaddled about his waist and shoulders, it was so bundled that it stopped around his bare lower thigh. The early morning sun shining in his brown eyes.

“I went shopping, picked up some food and other needed supplies.” Maul smiled weakly, pulling a package of Jogan tarts from the paper bag sitting on the counter.

“Why are you wearing my cloak?” Maul glanced at what he was wearing. Taking a second too long to reply.

“I was- cold,” He finally spat out. Obi-Wan walked over, peering into the brown bag. There wasn't a whole lot in there, mostly just prepackaged snacks and a large package of what looked to Obi-Wan like a Meat Pie. A large bottle of Tsiraki also sat next to the bag. 

Obi-Wan picked up the liquor, raising an eyebrow at Maul, who snatched it from Obi-Wan’s hands, clutching it to his chest. Obi-Wan took a step away, wary of Maul. Maul relaxed his tensed shoulders, setting the bottle on the counter with a small sigh. 

“Is that Tsiraki?” Obi-Wan asked he’d never seen anyone actually buy it to bring home. Maul looked at him, nodding almost sheepishly.

“It’s Iridonian right?” Obi-Wan asked, wondering how Maul was familiar with it. Maul nodded, “Yeah but it was made on Dathomir too, my brothers and I would sneak the remains of bottles from parties that the adults threw.” His eyes were glassy, remembering simpler times.

“Yeah, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” Maul finally said, keeping a hand on the neck of the bottle. Obi-Wan scoffed. 

“I have tried it, it tastes like Bantha piss,” Obi-Wan joked, which seemed to ease Maul releasing his hold on the blue bottle.

“I’ve always liked it, maybe it’s the Zabrak in me,” It was phrased like a joke but the heaviness in Maul’s voice gave Kenobi pause. Maul put the bottle into a high empty cupboard, dumping out the rest of the bag and shoving most of the contents into the icebox. 

“Where did you get the credits for all of this?” Obi-Wan questioned, suddenly worried that he had been robbed. Maul rolled his eyes.

“I saved some of the money you gave me yesterday for clothes.” He said curtly, annoyed at the insinuation.

Maul heaved himself onto the counter, resting his head gingerly onto the blank wall. He looked over to Obi-Wan, who rested a hand on the counter next to Maul’s thigh. They made eye contact for the first time that day, the first time they hadn’t immediately glanced away since the night they met. 

“I’m guessing your Master can’t get you out of work today,” Maul stated, lifting his head from the wall.

“He’s not my Master anymore, and yes I have to train Anakin today,” Obi-Wan replied, wondering if Maul remembered Qui-Gon’s name.

“Anakin?” Maul asked, knitting his brow a bit. Obi-Wan remembered that Maul had never actually met the boy as he was unconscious when Anakin had seen them in the hallway.

“Oh, he’s my padawan, well Qui-Gon’s too. We’re training him,” Obi-Wan paused to fill a kettle, “Speaking of, I’ll need to be off soon, can you fix breakfast for yourself? And would you like some tea?” Maul nodded lazily, resting his head back and closing his eyes. 

“Do you have anyway I can watch the Holonet? I don’t want to be bored all day.” Maul asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Pouring them both a cup of tea Obi-Wan nodded, passing his guest the steaming mug.

“Let me show you, the green button is on and off, the two silver ones next to it are for changing the channel, I’ve never really used it so I’m not sure it works.” Obi-Wan pulled a small projector from a drawer stuffed with junk and handed it to Maul, their hands touching for just a moment, but it was long enough to feel how warm Maul’s skin was. 

Obi-Wan shoved that thought aside, turning his back to Maul to hide the small blush creeping onto his face. 

“I should get dressed,” Obi-Wan said, suddenly painfully aware that he was still in his nightclothes. He left the room all too quickly, leaving before Maul could say anything. He shut the door to his room, sighing deeply before shimmying out of his nightclothes and folding them neatly. He took care to tie and layer his robes perfectly, cinching it all with his wide obi. He almost forgot to grab his com before leaving his bedroom.

Maul was still on the counter when Obi-Wan returned to his abandoned cup of tea. He drank it quickly, setting the cup in the sink and checking the clock.

“I should get going, I can’t be late.” Maul looked out the window above the sink, slipping off the counter to set his half-full cup it. 

“Alright, is there a time I can expect you back by?” Obi-Wan thought for a second, “I should be back for lunch. You don’t have to make anything, I can handle that. Oh and please don’t leave my quarters.” He bid Maul goodbye and went to Qui-Gon’s quarters to get Anakin.

“What do you mean you thought he was with me? He said he was meeting you in the training rooms” Qui-Gon asked, standing from his modest dining table. Obi-Wan rested his head in his hand, letting an aggravated sigh out.

“I told him I would come to get him,” Obi-Wan said, worry slowly building in his chest. Not again Anakin, he thought, that boy was too much trouble. Qui-Gon threw a cloak over his shoulders, not containing his worry as well as Obi-Wan.

“Let’s go find the boy again.” He muttered as they headed out into the temple. They split up to search Anakin’s usual hiding places, Obi-Wan called his name and scanned for his force signature, but was coming up empty. 

As the hours went by the small bit of worry had become all-out panic, he rushed back towards his quarters across the temple, hoping to the force that Anakin had somehow stayed in Qui-Gon’s apartment or slipped into his. 

Qui-Gon’s apartment was empty and quiet, with no trace of Anakin other than his unkempt bedroom. It was a hail mary, Obi-Wan knew but he had to check his quarters. He punched in the code, when the door hissed open he heard Anakin’s muffled voice coming from the deeper part of his home. He rushed in, panic and elation filling him, a foul smoke was trailing through his quarters, leading him straight to the living room.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw what the smoke was coming from. Maul lay on his back on the couch, feet hanging off the armrest, a long thin cigarette hanging from his lips. Anakin sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, twisting to see who had burst into the room.

“Master! There you are!” Anakin said excitedly, jumping up from his seat. Obi-Wan ignored him for the moment, glaring daggers at Maul. Who took a deep, painful drag off of the deep red cigarette.

“You’re early. It’s only been three hours,” Maul said, looking across the room at Obi-Wan, smiling lightly.

“Really, Maul? He’s a child!” Obi-Wan crossed the room, squashing the lit cigarette between his fingers. Maul frowned, looking down at the ruined cig in his hand. 

“In my defense,” Maul said, sitting up from the couch, bringing his and Obi-Wan’s faces only inches apart, “We couldn’t open any of the windows.” He let out the rest of the smoke trapped in his lungs, making Obi-Wan flinch away in disgust. 

“That explains the rotten state of your teeth,” Obi-Wan said, leaning to speak directly into Maul’s ear. The smug look on Maul’s face turned stony but he pulled a veil of calm over it quickly, smiling at Obi-Wan, showing his black teeth. 

“Anakin, I think you should take your Master to the training room,” Maul said warmly, Anakin did as he was told, pulling Obi-Wan’s sleeve.

“We will speak later,” Obi-Wan said sternly as Anakin led him out of their quarters. 

“You could at least show me how to open the window!” Maul called after them, slumping back on the couch when the door hissed shut.


	5. Almost on track

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again! I'm excited to see what you guys think of this one, I have a blast reading your comments, they really mean a lot to me. Things are heating up! If you would like to see other content I make or request a drawing or one shot, or just talk to me, I'm @good-old-ben-kenobi on tumblr :)

Obi-Wan was still fuming when he returned to his quarters late into the night. He opened the door and was shocked to smell no smoke and hear nothing from inside. He walked in, looking around for Maul. His bed was made and his clothes were hung in the closet, walking through the kitchen he saw the window cracked and the dishes washed. 

Maul was laying on the couch Obi-Wan’s cloak covering his sleeping form, eyes shut and mouth slightly agape. A half-empty pack of cigarettes sat on the coffee table. Obi-Wan sat in the armchair opposite the coffee table, letting a deep sigh take the stress from his muscles. 

“Maul?” Obi-Wan asked, not sure if he should wake the sleeping man. His form stirred, opening his eyes slowly and yawning. Maul sat up slowly, Obi-Wan’s cloak falling off of his chest, revealing the intricate tattoos that covered his muscled frame. 

“Yeah?” Maul asked sleepily, stretching his back. Obi-Wan couldn’t remember what he was going to say as he watched the slow rise and fall of Maul’s tattooed chest. 

“We need to t-talk,” Obi-Wan stuttered out, not sure if Maul was awake enough to have that conversation. Maul blinked at him, rubbing his face with open palms. He definitely wasn’t awake enough.

“Uh, you should probably sleep in your room, we can talk tomorrow,” Obi-Wan managed to say, the sleepy haze on Maul’s face gave him a placid look and he nodded lazily, standing and shuffling down the hall, letting Obi-Wan’s cloak fall from his hips, revealing a tight pair of black boxers. 

Obi-Wan looked away, growing hot under the collar. He waited for Maul to close his door before picking up the discarded cloak and going to his own room. All the anger and annoyance had melted away, leaving only confusion and a tug in his chest. He slumped onto his bed, burying his face into a pillow. 

What has any of this been? The past few days all hit him at once, the absurdness and stress weighing on him, coupled with the tug in his heart it was too much. He curled up, hugged the pillow to his chest, and screwed his eyes shut. He only realized that he slept in his clothes when the sun woke him up the next morning. 

He slunk out of bed slowly, staggering into the kitchen, kicking himself for waking up so late. The room was bright, yellow light bathed the simple room in brilliant gold. Maul stood at the far end of the kitchen with his back to Obi-Wan, his baggy pants hung off his slim hips accentuating how wiry the man was, his bare back was bent over a cutting board.

“I’d like it if you stop staring at me,” Maul said, stopping whatever he was doing. Obi-Wan hadn’t realized he was staring but quickly looked away. Maul turned, leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms with a knife still in hand. 

“Last night you said you wanted to talk. I assume it’s about me smoking.” He was guarded, shooting daggers at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan pulled out a chair from his dining table, sitting down and stretching his back. 

“It’s not about you smoking, it’s you smoking inside, around my padawan,” Obi-Wan said, voice heavy with exhaustion. Maul rolled his eyes letting his hands fall to his sides. 

“You said I wasn’t allowed to leave the apartment and what was I supposed to do when a thirteen-year-old boy comes knocking on the door and refuses to leave?” Maul said, raising an eyebrow at the still sleepy-eyed Kenobi. 

“You could have opened a window! Or here’s an idea, don’t smoke around a thirteen-year-old child!” Obi-Wan shot back, the anger of the last night slightly returning to him. Maul sucked his teeth, annoyed. 

“You’ve obviously never been addicted to anything sweetheart,” Maul said, his voice dripping in condescension. He was right, Obi-Wan had never been addicted to anything, but that didn’t excuse Maul’s actions.

“He had just come in when you got there, he was asking where you were. I told him I didn’t know and he said he was going to wait here for you.” Maul said, shoulders slumping. 

“Look,” Maul said, turning back to the cutting board, “I opened a window, cleaned up the apartment, and did the dishes, I’m making breakfast right now. Isn’t that enough of an apology?” Maul was exasperated, but he was genuine and he was trying to apologize. Albeit he didn’t sound remorseful and he had yet to say sorry but Obi-Wan could tell that he regretted what he had done. 

“I thought you couldn’t cook,” Obi-Wan said, deciding that moving on was the best thing to avoid an argument, Maul’s apology was enough as long as it never happened again. He stood, walking up next to Maul to see what exactly he was doing. A pile of fern potatoes sat to the left of the cutting board, a slab of greyish meat sat on the cutting board along with some roba and a large Gartro egg. 

“I can make one meal,” Maul gestured to the ingredients, “Gartro omelet with fern potatoes, some cut up Bukk steak, and diced roba on top.” Obi-Wan knew most of those ingredients but was skeptical about the greyish meat.

“Bukk?” He asked, sitting on the counter next to Maul’s cutting board. Maul returned to his dicing, looking up at Obi-Wan out of the corner of his eye. 

“Yeah, Bukk. They’re from Dathomir, like Bantha but big red angry beasts. Taste great though. I had to go to the Iridonian district to even find any.” He added, scraping the fern potatoes into a large bowl. 

“You should change,” Maul said, pausing to look Obi-Wan over, “You slept in those didn’t you?” He said, an honest smile cracking his face. It was beautiful, Maul’s smile, Maul’s honest real smile, not the one he puts on to hide other feelings, not the smug cutting one, the real smile. Maul reached up, straightening Obi-Wan’s crumpled tunic and pulling his obi up slightly. 

“There, now you can wear that for the rest of the day and not deal with changing,” Maul said, immediately going back to chopping the Bukk. Obi-Wan turned his head, trying to hide the crimson blush that was taking over his cheeks. 

“Uh, thanks.” He said force he’s such an idiot. Maul eyed him, a smirk playing on his face.

“Go make some tea or something you’re taking up too much counter space,” Maul said, shooing Obi-Wan off of the counter. Oh thank force, Obi-Wan thought, hopping off the counter and putting on some hot water. 

Obi-Wan got down the mugs and tea bags when he heard a small knock on the door. He went to open the door. Anakin looked up at him, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Master! Can I have breakfast with you and Master Maul today?” Anakin asked before Obi-Wan could even say good morning, the boy was practically jumping with joy. Obi-Wan thought for a second before acquiescing.

“Alright, come in Anakin, Maul is making breakfast.” The boy rushed past him, barrelling into the kitchen and giving Maul a loud ‘good morning!’ Obi-Wan smiled to himself. 

“What are you making?” Anakin asked excitedly, bouncing around Maul watching what he was doing intently. Maul was finishing his dicing, putting the cutting board into the sink, and turning to face Anakin.

“Omelets.” He said shortly, getting a pan down from a cupboard. “Kenobi, the water is going to boil over.” Obi-Wan quickly took the kettle off the stove, pouring tea for the three of them. Anakin was staring at Maul, completely awestruck, Obi-Wan shot him a look and the boy looked away. 

“Master Maul, what are those?” Anakin asked, causing Maul to freeze. Obi-Wan glared at Anakin with a chastising gaze. 

“What are these?” Maul said, pointing to the tattoos running down his arms, Anakin nodded and Maul smiled tritely at the boy. “They are my tattoos, all Dathomirians have them,” he said with relief evident in his voice. It dawned on Obi-Wan that Maul thought Anakin was referring to the scars that crossed across his back. 

“Why?” Anakin continued, plopping himself down on a dining room chair, Maul seemed annoyed at this line of questioning.

“They show what clan I was a part of, my family history, and where I’m from. I come from a clan called The Night Brothers,” He said, pointing to the tattoos on his face and hands. Anakin nodded, astounded by Maul’s appearance. 

“What about your horns?” He said, swinging his feet in the chair. Obi-Wan shot him another look. 

“Anakin don’t be rude.” He said before Maul could answer, “Would you ask Master Fisto why he’s green? Or Master Koon, why he wears a mask? No. So don’t pester Maul.” He finished. Maul whisked the contents of the omelets together and poured it into a pan, the sizzle of the eggs filling the quiet kitchen. 

They ate in silence, Obi-Wan was surprised by how good it actually was. It was a peaceful meal until Anakin opened his mouth again.

“Why do you have all those scars on your back?” Maul stopped, frozen in place. Obi-Wan was shocked. He grabbed Anakin by the upper arm and dragged him from the table and out into the hall, leaving Maul alone. 

“Anakin, you can’t ask people things like that!” Obi-Wan said, keeping his voice level but stern, “Maul has been through terrible things, he is fragile.” Anakin was looking up at him with a challenge like he didn’t believe a word of what Obi-Wan was saying. 

Obi-Wan handed Anakin over to Qui-Gon, telling his co-master about what Anakin had said. Qui-Gon’s face was grim, he assured Obi-Wan that he would talk to Anakin. Obi-Wan punched in the code to his quarters, opening the door and walking over the threshold he almost bumped into Maul, who was standing with his arms crossed in the hallway. 

“Fragile?” Maul asked but it wasn’t a question, his jaw was set and the anger seeping into the force was overwhelming. Obi-Wan felt his stomach drop and he knew in that instant that he never should have said that. 

“Really, fragile?” His voice was louder, taking a step towards Obi-Wan, a smile devoid of joy or pleasure spread across his face. 

“You called me fragile? Master Kenobi who has never had to fight for anything he needs, who has never been on his own, called me fragile.” Maul was closer to him now, he was nearly shouting and Obi-Wan was sure that Qui-Gon could hear him.

“Maul,” he started but the smaller man held up a hand to stop him and Obi-Wan fell silent. Maul was shaking with rage or fear or betrayal, Obi-Wan couldn’t be sure. 

“You don’t know how this happened to me and frankly it’s none of your business. I’m sure as hell not gonna tell you!” Maul screamed. Shame clawed at Obi-Wan’s gut he downcast his eyes not bearing to look at Maul.

“You’re not my savior, Kenobi,” Maul said, quieter now but still loud enough for Qui-Gon to hear. He took the last step, closing the distance between them leaving only inches between their faces. Maul leaned in to speak into his ear. 

“You think I don’t see you look at me? All the stolen glances out of the corner of your eye, the blush on your cheeks. I see them all, Kenobi. And don’t try and deny it, you’re a shit liar.” With that he turned, going straight to his room and closing the door. 

Without anything else to do, Obi-Wan left, hoping he could find something to do with Qui-Gon and Anakin.


	6. An olive branch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, posting this chapter early because I wrote it way quicker than I thought I would and you guys deserve a little treat. Not the best at writing smut so bear with me here. Love hearing what you guys think in the comments, as always I'm @good-old-ben-kenobi on tumblr :)

He half expected Maul to be gone when he returned well past dark, he had gone to the gardens to meditate, to distract himself from what Maul had said. But when he opened the door to his quarters the lights were on and there were new dirty dishes in the sink. 

Maul had seated himself on the coffee table, a nearly empty glass of Tsiraki in his hand with the bottle not far away. His gaze shot to Obi-Wan, stopping the man in his tracks. 

“Here,” Maul said after a pensive moment, filling a second glass with liquor and holding it out for Obi-Wan, “I got a glass for you.” He wasn’t as angry anymore, he was a ball of confusion, pain, and betrayal in the force. So against his better judgment, Obi-Wan took the glass from Maul, sipping the liquor. It wasn’t as bitter as Obi-Wan remembered but still hard to get down. 

“I don’t blame you for being angry at me,” Obi-Wan said after a while, still standing near the doorway. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t find words so he fell silent again.  
“I don’t want an apology. I wanted you to be different.” Maul replied, his eyes watering, he wiped them with his sleeve. He finished his glass in one final swig, setting it roughly on the coffee table next to him.

“How?” Obi-Wan pleaded, “I want to help you. I just don’t know how.” Maul locked eyes with him, studying him, sighing he slouched, resting his head in his hands. 

“I wanted you to see me. As more than someone to fix, more than something to ogle.” His eyelids hung low, the liquor was getting to him. Maul’s words needled Obi-Wan, guilt heavied his head. 

“Please know I would never do anything to you, Maul. It is against the Jedi code to have any attachments.” Obi-Wan reassured, he sat next to the man on the coffee table, at the other end of course. Maul looked confused, amused almost.

“Attachment.” He said, “That’s not exactly what I meant.” He poured himself another glass of liquor. Obi-Wan was sweating, it wasn’t until now that he realized it but he had been sweating for a while. He finished his glass all at once, forcing the liquor down his throat, hoping it would chase away his nerves. 

“That’s forbidden too,” He finally replied. Maul looked shocked at that, he swung his leg over the table, straddling it and scooting towards Obi-Wan slightly.

“Really?” Disbelief was evident in Maul’s voice. “Sex is forbidden? Not just marriage or relationships, but sex.” Obi-Wan nodded, the liquor was getting to him already, he felt light as a feather like a small gust could carry him far away from this awkward conversation. 

“That, explains a lot actually,” Maul said he was guarded, shoulders hunched and arms resting on the coffee table between his splayed legs. His hands were shaking ever so slightly. Yet his face was open, not guarded like his frame, he was almost personable despite his cocktail of negative emotions. 

“Like what?” Obi-Wan asked, shrugging out of his cloak and discarding it on a nearby armchair. Maul took a minute, thinking.

“You’re so repressed.” He finally said, “But that just makes you want it more.” He added, eyes narrowing. Obi-Wan felt his stomach turn, maybe it was the Tsiraki. 

“I don’t like this, can we talk about something else.” It wasn’t a question, liquor was skewing things, he didn’t want to say or do something he couldn’t take back.

“No.” Maul was serious, his face grim. “You’re a grown man, you can’t just not have a sex life.” Obi-Wan sighed, standing and crossing his arms.

“Yes, I can. Now excuse me I’m going to bed. Oh also, you’re staying in my home. Remember that.” Maul’s face fell and he sprung up from the table, wobbling slightly.

“No, please, I’m sorry.” He said, grabbing Obi-Wan’s tunic sleeve, bunching the fabric in his hand to steady himself. Obi-Wan surrendered and sat back down on the coffee table next to Maul, who seemed to be happier now that he was staying. Maul refilled their drinks, Obi-Wan only took half a glass as he was already feeling out of it. 

“We can change the subject, I don’t want you to be upset.” Maul said, taking a swig of his Tsiraki, “Can you tell me more about the Jedi code or whatever it’s called. Like what can you do?” Obi-Wan was relieved at this change and this time it was something he knew about. 

They stayed like that for a while, drinking and talking about the Jedi. Maul voiced his opinions that the Jedi were over-controlling and the fact that they participated in the war at all was hypocritical and Obi-Wan would try to convince him otherwise. They emptied the bottle but Maul seemed to only be tipsy, wobbly but not drunk yet. Obi-Wan was hazy and lacking grace in his movements. 

“I’m not drunk enough yet.” Maul mused, “Do you have anything?” Obi-Wan thought hard trying to remember the last time he had bought any alcohol. 

“Uh yes,” It finally came to him, “I have some Coruscanti whisky in the high cupboard, left of the sink.” He almost slurred. Maul stood from the coffee table shakily, climbing up on the counter to grab the half-empty ornate bottle. Without so much as glancing at the label, he flicked off the top and took a swig, grimacing as he swallowed.

“How long has this been sitting in your cupboard?” He joked as he walked past the coffee table, slouching down onto the couch and patting the cushion next to him. Obi-Wan followed Maul’s direction, sitting on the couch next to the man. 

Maul continued to drink, offering the bottle to Obi-Wan occasionally who refused it half the time. It was silent save for the light hum of an air purifier but that didn’t bother Obi-Wan; it was almost peaceful by Maul’s side. Maul’s emotions had dulled with the liquor but were still confused and turbulent. 

Not wanting to kill the calm mood they had created, Obi-Wan squashed the idea of apologizing on behalf of Anakin, he knew the boy was mesmerized by Maul and that he meant nothing by it. That all fled from his mind as Maul moved closer to him, nestling into his side and resting his head on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. For a second Obi-Wan froze, completely unsure of what to do.   
He didn’t do anything for a while and by the time he had worked up the courage to ask Maul to move he wasn’t even sure he wanted him to anymore. So instead he put his arm around him, rubbing his shoulder slightly. It was so strange, maybe it was the drink, no, he knew what it was and it scared him. 

For the longest time, Maul didn’t say anything. He just held onto him and buried his face in his shoulder. Obi-Wan didn’t say anything back; he just let Maul rest on his shoulder and think, too scared to move. He was scared he would do something wrong he didn’t want Maul to leave.

Then Maul moved, sitting back slightly away from Obi-Wan’s shoulder, the cold that his absence left bothered him. He sensed that something was off, Maul was drunk now, he swayed slightly on the couch. 

Their lips collided, Maul moved to straddle Obi-Wan, carding his hands through the Jedi’s hair. Obi-Wan froze, shock taking over his system before he melted at Maul’s touch. Unsure of what to do he opened his mouth letting the kiss deepen. When their lips parted Obi-Wan gasped, want building in his gut. Maul’s hands slid under his tunic, pulling it over Obi-Wan’s head and then removing his own. Maul’s small and muscled frame was strange in the light, his scars gave him an animalistic quality but his gentle touches contrasted his appearance.

Everything in Obi-Wan screamed at him to stop, stop while there was something left of him to be saved, but the warm feeling of Maul’s hands made him writhe and feel starved for more. Then it’s his hands, roaming over Maul’s frame above him, wordlessly pleading with the man. For what Obi-Wan didn’t know.

It was when Maul slid off of him, landing in front of the couch in between Obi-Wan’s knees that he protested, sitting straight up and putting a hand on Maul’s bare shoulder.

“Stop,” he is unsure of himself, the word is shaky but Maul listened, sitting back on his heels and giving a confused look.

“Did I misread you? I thought you wanted this?” Maul asked, his brow furrowing. Obi-Wan didn’t know why he said that either.

“No, I do want this,” He stammered, panting slightly, “I just panicked.” He looked past Maul at the coffee table, wanting to run and hide in his room like some scared child. He was not a child, he thought, so he stayed right where he was. 

“Are you sure?” Maul was hesitant but did not move from his position in front of Obi-Wan, “You seem flustered.” Obi-Wan slumped back against the couch, rubbing his face with his palms. 

“Listen, I’ll tell you if I want you to stop, ok?” He looked down at Maul, who seemed unconvinced of his surety but leaned forwards nonetheless, again kneeling directly between Obi-Wan’s legs. He rested his head on the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

Maul resumed, running his hands over Obi-Wan’s thighs and pulling his pants down just enough to let his hardening dick spring free. The cold air was harsh against him, making him gasp slightly. Maul chuckled, licking down the trail of hair from Obi-Wan’s naval while grasping his base, slowly stroking him to hardness. 

He hissed through his teeth when he felt Maul’s mouth close around him, the warmth in stark contrast to the otherwise cold room. He gripped the couch, bracing himself when Maul started to slowly bob his head, clearly taking pleasure in Obi-Wan’s strained reactions.

Obi-Wan sat up as Maul plunged him down his throat, humming a laugh around him. A hand on his chest pushed him back down on the couch, Maul again started to pump his head and quickened his pace. It took all the willpower he could muster not to buck into Maul’s mouth. All of his apprehension had fled, leaving pure confusing bliss. 

Maul took his mouth off of him and replaced it with a hand he sped up, making Obi-Wan’s breath hitch and muscles tense. A pit of pleasure was building in his gut, threatening to spill out of him at any moment. It seems like Maul knew this because his mouth was back on him, pushing him to his limits until he came, desperately trying to catch his breath. Maul grabbed his empty Tsiraki glass, spitting into it and climbing back onto the couch next to Obi-Wan. 

“How was that?” Maul asked, snuggling up next to him again, it took a moment for Obi-Wan to compose himself enough to reply.

“Different.” Was all he could manage, hiking his pants back over himself and leaning his head on Maul’s, minding the horns. After coming down from his high he could rely on himself to speak properly.

“Should I, um,” He didn’t get to finish, Maul made a small sound that clearly meant ‘shut up’. So that’s what he did, he was exhausted and basking in his blissed-out almost coherent state sleep wasn’t far away.


End file.
